


Tab A + Slot B

by the_deep_magic



Category: Actor RPF, Star Trek RPF
Genre: Exhibitionism, First Time, M/M, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Sex Toys, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-09
Updated: 2010-04-09
Packaged: 2017-10-19 10:07:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/199681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_deep_magic/pseuds/the_deep_magic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s the gift that keeps on giving…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tab A + Slot B

**Author's Note:**

> Now with bonus epilogue -- one week later

“What the sweet sodding hell is this?”

Zach sighs, cradling the phone between his shoulder and his ear as he scrapes the last of the Simply Salmon out of the can and into Harold’s bowl.  “What does it say on the box, Christopher?”

“An… Eros?”

“Very good.  Sounds like Hooked on Phonics is finally paying off.”

“Okay, what do I do with it, asshole?”

“Well, you’re not far off,” Zach snorts.  “Keep reading.”

“Perineum-prostate stimulator!” Chris squeaks.  “You gave me a sex toy?”

“It would appear so.”

“You left a sex toy sitting out in my trailer?!”

“Stop hyperventilating – it was in an unmarked paper bag.”

“A _sex toy_ , Zach!  Men do not give other men sex toys!”

“Men also generally do not ask other men for ‘cuddle time’ when they’re having a bad day, but you seem to be fine crossing that boundary.”

“Not the same,” Chris muttered grumpily.  “For reasons which I will enumerate later.”

“If you can get over your indignation for just a moment, you might inquire as to why I gifted you with this particular sex toy.”

“You think it’s funny to imagine me putting things up my butt?”

Zach briefly considers denying it, but decides he can’t, though “funny” might not be quite the right word.  “That is but one small upshot of my generosity.  I know you’ve been going through a dry spell lately—”

“A very rare dry spell.”

“Of course.  And I thought you might enjoy some quality self-love.”

Chris groans.  “Zach, I have a hand.  Two of them, in fact, if one gets tired.  I even have a bottle of lotion and a box of tissues, should things get complicated.  These are the only prerequisites for self-love.”

“Oh, you sweet, naïve boy,” Zach sighs, flopping down on his couch and kicking his legs to hang over the arms.  “There are more things in heaven and earth, Christopher, than are dreamt of in your masturbatory regimen.”

“See, the fact that you even _have_ a regimen is deeply disturbing to me.  There’s such a thing as overthinking it.”

“You try that Aneros out, then tell me who’s overthinking it.”

“Maybe I don’t want anything up my butt.  Did you ever consider that?”

“I did.  I also remember you telling me about the nasty sorority girl who used to shove a finger in you during blowjobs, and how you came harder than you have before or since.”

“I am never drinking Irish car bombs with you again.”

“I learned so much about you that night…  And the next morning, when you vomited all over the cat.  He still hates you, by the way.”

“Harold hates everybody,” Chris grumbled.  “All right, so what do I do with this thing – just lube it up and pop it in?”

“No wonder you’re frustrated – can’t even talk dirty to yourself.”

“Eh, no need.  I’m easy.”

“There should be detailed instructions in the box.”

“Detailed?  Are there moving parts?  Cranks?  Gears?”

“Just read the damn directions, Pine.  You will not be sorry.”

&&&

Zach is expecting the thankful phone call.  He’s just not expecting it at 2:30 in the morning.

“Holy _fuck_ ,” Chris gasps into the phone, still panting with obvious exertion.

“Hrngl?” asks Zach, his face still half-buried in the pillow.

“You were right.  You were _so_ right.  Oh my god, I will write sonnets about how right you were.  No, epic poems.  Sagas.  The Tale of Zachary the Correct, Teller of Mighty Truths.  Fuck, I’m still buzzing all over.”

“You’re calling me right after you wanked?” Zach groans, waking up a little.

“To tell you how right you were!  I thought you’d want to get a head start on gloating.”

“I appreciate it, I do, but it really could have waited until the makeup trailer.  I rarely gloat before my morning coffee.”

“Oh,” says Chris, sounding a little stunned.  “Sorry.  But seriously – fucking _insane_.”

Zach hangs up.  And falls back to sleep with a smile.

&&&

The moment they’re both free, Chris – in full bruise makeup – plops down in a chair next to Zach and grins mischievously until Zach gives him his undivided attention.  He sighs.  “I was right?”

Chris nods enthusiastically.

“Well, if we have to talk about this at work… Do you always jerk off at two in the morning?”

“I don’t have a standing appointment, no, but when I have a late night and I’m horny…”  Mercifully, Chris trails off.  “Did I ever say thank you?”

“Not in so many words.”

“My bad.  Thank you, Zachary, your gift was most appreciated, and will be appreciated daily, I’m sure.  Twice on Sundays.”

Zach’s not annoyed with him for the phone call, not really.  But if there is ever a day when he lets the opportunity to mess with Chris slip by, it’ll only be because he’s dead, comatose, or otherwise incapacitated.  “So, what did you do with it?”

That makes the smile falter.  “What do you mean, ‘what did I do with it?’  I just stuck it in my ass and went to town.  Felt great.”

“So…” Zach says idly, sipping at his coffee, “just the one orgasm then?”

“Um, yes.  But that one was pretty damn spectacular.”

“Uh huh.”

“What do you mean, ‘just the one’?”

“Exactly how far into the directions did you get?”

“Well, after insert tab A into slot B, what else is there?”

“Oh, Christopher,” Zach sighs.  “Your short attention span has once again been your downfall.”

He’s got Chris absolutely hooked now, leaning forward in his chair.  “So what do _you_ do with it?”

Zach glances away for a moment, heightening the tension.  “I doubt you’d be interested.  It requires… practice.”

“No, c’mon, tell me,” Chris whines.  This is just too perfect.

“Very well,” Zach says coolly, leaning in until he’s centimeters from Chris ear.  “Ever had a full-body orgasm?  Ever had _multiple_ full-body orgasms?”

“No way,” Chris whispers, his eyes so wide that Zach can see white all the way around the blue irises.

“Oh, absolutely,” Zach replies.  “It’s incredible.”

“But… how?”

“Like I said, practice.  Relaxation.  Deep breathing.  Muscle control.”  Zach leans back in his chair and grins, going in for the kill.  “I could show you if you want.”

Chris appears to think it over, and Zach’s just about to start laughing when he blurts out, “Okay.”

Zach’s grin wavers.  “What?”

“I’m a visual learner,” Chris says eagerly.  “I could really watch you do it?”

“There’s not really a whole lot to watch—”

“But I could, like, be there when you do it.”

“Well, hypothetically, yes,” Zach stammers.

“Sweet.  There’s no way I’ll get it just from reading the instructions.  I’d really appreciate it, man.”

He freaked out when Zach put the toy in his trailer and now he’s demanding a demonstration?  Surely Chris attempting to call his bluff with another bluff – Zach just has to up the stakes until Chris folds.  “Wanna come over tonight?”

“Sure!” Chris says brightly just as his name is called on set.  “I’ll be there at seven.”

“Bring booze!” Zach shouts just as cheerfully.  No way is he letting Chris get the best of him on this one.

&&&

Oh, he thoroughly expects Chris to show up, all right.  But then he expects to sit on the couch all night drinking whatever obscure foreign beer Chris has scrounged up and watching bad movies and just generally not using any sex toys whatsoever.

So he’s a little taken aback when, after the beer and pizza, Chris asks, “So, when’s the show gonna start?”

“Huh?”

“The One-Man Multiple Orgasm Show directed, produced by, and starring Zachary Quinto.  Though I think I should get an associate producer credit for getting you liquored up first.”

“Oh, I know which show,” Zach counters hastily, covering his surprise.  “Just wasn’t sure you were ready for it.”

“Is that some kind of a challenge, Quinto?”

“Everything’s so competitive with you.”  At this point, Zach’s not sure if he’s stalling or inadvertently engaging in foreplay.

“Nuh-uh!  Besides, once I learn how to do this Aneros thing, I’ll have way more multiple orgasms than you.”  Then he sticks out his tongue.

Zach rolls his eyes and stands up.  “I can’t do this in the living room.   And I definitely can’t do it with the dog watching.  We’ll have to go to my bedroom and close the door.”  He turns his back to Chris and heads for the bedroom, fully expecting the younger man to suddenly announce that he’d left his oven on, or has a date to get to, or left his date in the oven or something.

But it never happens – Chris follows him right into the bedroom.  “So this is where the magic happens?  The solo magic, I mean.  The solitary vice.  The sin of Onan.”

“Which one of us is Catholic again?”

“The one steeped so deeply in guilt over sex that he has elevated masturbation to an art form?” Chris asks innocently, and fuck it, Zach is going to whip his dick out just for the pleasure of watching Chris run squealing from the room, hands aflutter.

Zach begins unbuttoning his jeans aggressively, if such a thing is possible.  “You’re not going to have a homophobic freak out on me, are you?”

“Give me some credit, here, Zachary.  I _did_ go to Berkeley.”

Perhaps Zach should take some time to wonder what, exactly, that means, but he doesn’t want to give Chris the satisfaction of letting him throw Zach off his game.  “Congratulations,” he says, now down to his boxers.  Ignoring Chris completely for the moment, he gets his own Aneros and lube out of the nightstand and lies back on the bed.  He rests his head on one pillow and grabs the other one to stuff under his hips.  “I usually do this on my side, but since you seem so intent on watching, Mr. Visual Learner, this’ll give you a better view.”  Then, staring Chris right in the eyes, he slides down his boxers.

Chris just cocks an eyebrow.  “You expect me to be impressed just by—”  He pauses for just a second as his eyes scan down Zach’s naked body, and Zach adds a tally mark next to his name on his mental chalkboard.  If he were paying closer attention, he might’ve asked himself when the goal switched from _call Chris’ bluff_ to _make Chris speechless_ , but it only takes a moment for Chris to get his thought back on track.  “Just by your scrawny, naked ass?  Please.”

“Not all of us can have perfectly round bubble butts,” Zach mutters, bending his knees until his feet are flat on the bed and lubing the toy with a practiced hand.  “Shouldn’t you be taking notes?”

“I made it this far on my own,” Chris says with an eye roll, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Well, sit down or something.  You’re making me nervous.”

“Zachary Quinto has performance issues?  I’m shocked, truly.”  But he sits down near the end of the bed, getting a nice view between Zach’s spread legs.

It’s already gone much further than Zach thought it would, but so far he’s just naked – nothing overtly sexual yet.  Still plenty of time for Chris to turn coward and run.  Zach closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, dropping his hand between his legs and slowly pushing the Aneros in.  It’s easy – definitely not one of his larger toys – and even the initial press of it is arousing.  He’s not fully hard yet, but he doesn’t move to stroke himself.  Instead, he focuses on his breathing, on relaxing his body, on the familiar intrusion of the toy.

It takes about a minute for Chris to break the silence.  “Has it done anything yet?”

“Does it look like it’s done anything yet?” Zach mutters, keeping the tension out of his muscles the best he can.  “You might want to lower your visual expectations for the moment.  It doesn’t do magic tricks.”

Chris pouts.  He actually, honest-to-god pouts.  It isn’t nearly as cute as he thinks it is.  “Well then, what are _you_ doing?”

“Relaxing.  Getting used to the feeling,” Zach says, closing his eyes again.

Chris waits for maybe another thirty seconds before blurting “You have to do this every time?”

“It’s part of the… process.”  He hears Chris huff impatiently.  “Look, there’s jerking off, which is usually about speed, and then there’s this.  Nobody’s forcing you to stay.”

“Fine, fine,” Chris grumbles, and the springs shift as though he’s getting comfortable on the end of the bed.  “Can you talk while you’re relaxing?”

“I don’t think I’m up for a political argument, but I’ll try to narrate what I’m doing.”  And, since it’s been awhile since he’s insulted Chris, Zach adds, “If you think your tiny brain can handle it.” 

It’s not his best work, but it still gets Chris nice and indignant.  “Show _you_ what I can handle,” he mumbles, barely audible, but then he goes quiet and Zach gradually starts to forget he’s even there.

Zach rests one spread hand on his belly and one on his chest, feeling the breath move in and out of his body.  The part of the toy that presses on his perineum gives him a low buzz of arousal and he lets it wash over him.  He holds off moving as long as he can, knowing how much better it will feel if he draws it out.  The bed shifts a little and, though Zach doesn’t open his eyes, he’s suddenly reminded of Chris’ presence in the room.  He imagines Chris’ face, bright blue eyes fixed on his naked body, and his cock swells a little more, though he makes no move to touch it.

“Okay,” Zach says quietly.  “I’m going to start… well, clenching, I guess.  Gently, though – you don’t get any extra points for going fast and hard.  It won’t work that way.”  Then he does it, tightening his inner muscles until the head of the Aneros rubs against his prostate, then releasing.  Tightening, then releasing.  Tightening, then releasing.

“You were right,” Chris mutters, “there’s not much to see.”  But he hasn’t gotten off the bed, and is it Zach’s imagination or does he sound just the slightest bit breathless?

“It’s like you’re kind of teasing yourself,” Zach says, licking his suddenly dry lips.  “It’s not something you can force.  You just have to… let it build.  Alternate between clenching in and pushing out.”  His fingers dig a little into the skin of his abdomen on each flex, another sensation added to the mix.  He can hear Chris’ breathing now, steady but audible in the quiet room, and Zach latches on to the thrill of performing.  He breathes deeper, opens himself a little wider, shows himself off a little more.

“Gonna start working it harder now.  You can bear down a little and hold for a few seconds.”  As Zach does this, his hips lift slightly off the bed.  He holds so still that the blood rushing through his veins and the tiny quivers in his inner muscles move the toy infinitesimally against his prostate and perineum.  As he relaxes, his breath flows out of him in an involuntary moan and he starts up his rhythm again, chasing the teasing sensations inside him and against him.

Sooner than usual, the contractions start coming on their own; Zach just helps them along, magnifies them as the rest of his body starts to tense with mounting pleasure.  The fingers on his chest tease idly at a nipple, flicking it to hardness.  “You… you’re not even touching yourself,” Chris says with more than a little awe.

“Don’t have to,” Zach says, though talking is becoming progressively more difficult.  “’s not about your dick.  It’s sort of, _ah_ , everywhere.”  Then he has to stop talking, because his inner muscles start spasming by themselves, sending wave after wave of pleasure up his spine.  He doesn’t bother to clamp down on the soft moans that work themselves out of his throat as he arches his back, sweat starting to break out on his forehead.  He keeps it going until his back starts to cramp, then relaxes his entire body back to the bed.

It’s only then that Zach opens his eyes to the sight of Chris, still at the end of the bed, his jaw hanging open.  “Holy shit,” he mutters.  “Did you just—?”

“Yeah,” Zach says with a smug, sated chuckle, rubbing a hand through the light sheen of sweat on his chest.

“But you didn’t…” Chris gestures vaguely.  “I mean, you’re still hard!”

“Dry orgasm.  Means I can go again right away.”

“How long did it take you to learn how to do that?”

“About a month,” Zach says, silently starting the cycle of contractions again.  Chris’ obviously-aroused stare is making his body more impatient than usual.  “Of course, I’m used to having my ass played with.  With your sweet virgin ass, who knows how long it’ll take.”

Chris’ answering whimper sets off a deep bloom of heat in Zach’s belly, and he decides to throw him a bone.  Speaking of which, unless Zach’s depth perception is way off, Chris looks to be painfully hard in those tight jeans.  “Overachiever like you, though, I’m sure you’ll have it down in no time.”

Chris looks down the bed and then back up, offended.  “You son of a bitch, you’re doing it again!”  Zach just laughs and winks.  “What— what does it feel like?” Chris stutters.

“Starts off as kind of a tingling,” Zach says, closing his eyes again and letting his hands drift up and down his torso.  “The more you do it, the more sensitive your whole body gets.”  Zach illustrates this with a quick pinch to his nipple that makes him gasp.  “Then it kind of turns into warmth, waves of it all over your body.”

His hands dip down to his inner thighs, rubbing himself slowly from crotch to knees.  He’s so internally focused that touch of Chris’ hand to his knee makes him jump and his eyes fly open.  “Can I?” Chris asks, placing his hands atop Zach’s.

Zach doesn’t even stop to think what he’s asking, just nods and takes his own hands away.  Chris flattens his palms against the inside of Zach’s thighs and takes up the same slow, firm rhythm Zach had been using on himself.  Zach’s eyes fall shut again and his hands go back to his chest.  The sensations are building even faster this time and he bears down a little harder, hips rocking up slightly with each contraction.  When he comes again, Chris’ hands still and grip his thighs hard, which only serves to push Zach higher.  It lasts even longer this time, and he loses track of time completely before coming down.

“Fuck,” Chris is muttering to himself.  “Fuck, _Zach_.” It takes Zach a moment to realize that one of Chris’ hands is gone, and when he opens his eyes again, he can see it’s because Chris is rubbing himself firmly through his jeans.

“Come with me this time,” Zach gasps before he can stop himself.  This time he grips his cock, holding himself firmly as Chris quickly undoes his fly, eyelashes fluttering with relief as he draws his neglected erection out of his briefs.

Two strokes and Zach is already close; he has to take his hand off of his cock and focus on the Aneros again.  Even then, it’s tough to hold back while watching Chris, fully clothed save for his exposed cock, work himself roughly, almost desperately, moaning every time he rubs his palm over the head.   He puts a hand on Zach’s knee again, leaning into it, and Zach realizes they’re panting nearly in sync.

“Let me see you,” Zach gasps, and Chris nods breathlessly.  Zach has to clench his hands in the sheets to keep from touching himself as Chris’ hand speeds to a blur, his hips thrusting in tight, precise little movements that Zach can practically feel as he clenches around the toy with the same rhythm.

“Gonna—” is all Chris gets out before he comes with a high-pitched _ah yeah_ , spurting across Zach’s thigh and that’s it, Zach’s hand is around his cock and he’s gone, his hips and back flying off the bed as he thrusts into his fist and comes a third and final time, finally spilling hot and thick over his belly and chest.

“Holy fuck,” Chris groans, crawling on hands and knees until he’s far enough up on the bed to flop down next to Zach.  “I have never seen anyone… Fuck.”

“Las’ one’s the best,” Zach slurs, still fighting to get his breath back.  He closes his eyes, stretches out his legs, and lets the sweet tingling of release wash over him.  Even if he tried, he couldn’t begin to explain to Chris how good this feels, being so spent and raw that the smallest wash of air over his skin feels like a caress.

Of course, there’s also the fact that he just came three times in front of his friend and co-worker.  Who also, incidentally, came _on_ Zach.  There will be… repercussions.

“Think I came on you,” Chris mutters, his voice almost entirely obscured by the pillow.

“I noticed.”

“I’m… sorry?”

“Way too blissed out to care.”

Chris finally turns his head to face Zach.  They just stare at each other for a few long moments, and it’s not nearly as uncomfortable as it should be.  “So, uh,” Chris starts, “what else can that Aneros thing do?”

A surprised laugh bursts out of Zach’s mouth as he reaches down to carefully pull the toy out.  “What, multiple orgasms aren’t enough for you?”

“No, I’m just thinking… is there stuff you can do, like, with another person?”

Zach’s eyes snap back to Chris, searching his face to make sure he’s asking what Zach thinks he’s asking.  He takes a moment to answer.  “If you top, you can have it in during sex.  Feels pretty fucking intense when you thrust.”

“Does it?” Chris asks rhetorically, his eyes mischievous.

“Mm-hmm,” Zach hums, pretty sure he’s got his answer.  “Knowing you, though, you’d make it through about two, maybe three strokes before you came like a teenager on prom night.”

“Slander,” Chris growls, poking Zach in the chest.  “Slander and lies.  I’ve got better endurance than you any day of the week.”

Zach looks him right in the eye and grins.  “Prove it.”

 

 **Epilogue -- One Week Later**

Turns out Zach was wrong, though not by much – Chris makes it through half a dozen thrusts before coming so hard his eyes cross. His arms give out almost immediately and he collapses flat onto Zach’s chest. It takes him a minute to realize that Zach is shaking and then another to realize that he’s shaking with _laughter_.

“Laugh all you want,” Chris slurs, not sure if it’s entirely intelligible. “Just let me enjoy this.”

“I don’t think I could stop you,” Zach chuckles, bringing his hands up to stroke slowly up and down Chris’ back and it’s… nice. Really nice, actually, a good complement to the little sizzles of pleasure still simmering in his fingers and toes. He could fall asleep like this, Zach’s chest for a warm (hairy) pillow, and he starts to drift…

Until Zach clenches hard around his spent, oversensitive dick.

“Ffffuck,” Chris groans, pushing up on his hands. “Okay, I get it.” He carefully pulls out of Zach and goes to dispose of the condom, but before he can even get off the bed, the Aneros shifts to bump against his prostate and he collapses like a heap of dirty laundry.

“That was an interesting noise,” Zach observes cheerfully, starting to laugh again. He rolls Chris onto his stomach so he can pull out the Aneros, setting it on Chris’ nightstand, and Chris hazards getting up again. He makes it this time, and as he heads to the bathroom, he hears, “I guess your dry spell is over.”

“Mm-hmm. It’s officially rainy season. Moisture everywhere”

“Gross.”

Chris snorts. Armed with a washcloth, he returns to see Zach sprawled across his bed, stroking lazily at his still-hard cock. “Did you bring yours?”

“Nah,” Zach says, tipping his head back and pushing his hips up to thrust into his fist. “It’s okay. A regular old single orgasm is good every now and then.”

Chris chuckles and sits on the bed – he’s pretty sure Zach isn’t going to mind if he watches. But when Zach starts to make soft sounds of pleasure as he squeezes at the head of his cock, Chris realizes that watching isn’t enough and crawls to kneel between Zach’s spread legs. “Do you like it better if you’re, y’know, _full_ when you come?”

“Mm-hmm,” Zach hums, his eyes still closed.

Chris thinks on this for a moment, then takes action, reaching down to where Zach is still stretched and slick from earlier and pushing his finger in.

Zach nearly jumps clean off the bed and his eyes fly open. “Jesus, Chris, _warn_ a guy!”

“Sorry,” Chris says, not entirely regretful. He bats his eyelashes coyly. “May I have permission to stick another finger in you, Zachary?”

Zach groans and nods, clenching possessively around Chris’ fingers when he gets them. Chris grins and crooks his fingers, searching carefully until Zach gasps.

“Easy,” Zach growls. “Light touches.”

Chris nods even though Zach’s eyes are closed again and taps against Zach’s prostate, far more gently this time. Zach’s answering moan is most encouraging, so he does it again, then again, a rhythmic tapping along with the motion of Zach’s hand around his cock.

That hand is speeding up now. “A little harder,” Zach groans. “Just a little harder, and rub.”

Chris complies, grinning widely at the wild sound that passes Zach’s lips and the way his hand speeds to a blur. A few more seconds and Zach comes with a hoarse shout, grinding down against Chris’ hand and jerking himself roughly. As he relaxes, Chris retracts his fingers and – forgetting completely about the washcloth – wipes them on the sheet. Zach doesn’t seem likely to move any time soon, so Chris stretches out beside him and gets comfortable.

“You sure you’re not gay?” Zach grunts, his forearm laying across his eyes.

“Nope. Just enthusiastic,” Chris says lightly. “Plus, I went to Berkeley.”

Zach rolls over to look him in the eye, and it looks like it takes a lot of effort. “Okay, what does that even _mean_?”


End file.
